Coup d'IaHB: Shrink Wrapped Silver Spoon
by Mad Cow
Summary: A dinner party gone horribly, horribly wrong...


Jamie leaned over to Caitie as they hung out under the bleachers. "Dork Dinner, my house, this Saturday. Wanna come?" Caitie grinned, knowing what 'Dork Dinner' entailed. Jamie's filthy, stinking rich parents often had other filthy, stinking rich people over for dinner parties, and the result was so unbelievely funny that the pair laughed about the attendees for weeks.   
"Sure," she replied. "I'm always up for a good time."  
"Dreamworld is this Saturday," someone spoke up.   
Caitie hit her head. "Oh, right. The theatre club's costume ball. I've already bought the tickets, and we already have costumes!"  
The theatre club held Dreamworld every year, a basically a rave that the club told the administration was a costume ball, every year. It was open to the entire school, but everyone knew of the club's wild, punk reputation, so those of Tyler and Val's caste wouldn't poke it with a ten foot long pole. The theatre club was, basically, bleacher junkies, and the real theme of the ball was always lost to the unspoken one: as outlandish as humanly possible.  
"Well, we can go to Dreamworld first, and then come home later. Dork Dinner will still be going on when we come home," Jamie suggested. "Mom always has the cooks make meals that can stretch well into the midnight hours."

"Cool," replied Caitie. "You're on."

***

Val was slaving over her homework when Tyler walked in. "Good," she said. "You can help me."

"Actually," he replied, "I need you to help me. It's a rather big, horrible, disgusting favor, but I was really hoping you'd agree. It may be too much for you, but-"

Val smiled as he slid into the seat next to her. "Just tell me."

"Well, you see, William, Mom, and I were invited to this dinner party thing at one of William's friend's houses, and it's going to be really boring, but Mom and William said you can come along, if you want to."

"I'd love to," she said. "Because, after all, if you went and died of boredom, who would help me with my math?"

***

William picked Val up at 7 sharp. She stood there, dressed in her nicest clothes. She slid in the back with Tyler, who squeezed her hand.

"You look great," he assured her as William drove off.

"Where are we going?" asked Val.

"Have you ever heard of Don't Wait Hotels and Resorts?" William questioned from the drivers seat.

"Don't Wait…call us…your vacation's safe in our hands?" Val asked, repeating the slogan.

"That's the one. My friend Nicholas owns the chain. We're going to his house."

In no time, there were pulling into the front of the largest house Val had ever seen in her life. The garage alone could fit her house twice over. "Wow," she breathed in awe.

William chuckled. "You should see the inside." A valet took their car, and the four found themselves standing in front of a massive door with a truly impressive knocker. They knocked.

A small woman with overkill rich-style hair that looked like a dead cat opened the door. "Hello William! Come on in," she greeted. "I'm Gwen Waite. You must be Tyler. Who is your friend?"

"Valerie Lanier," Val answered. 'Val' seemed too casual for this place.

"Welcome, Valerie. Where do you go to school?"

"They're both juniors at Kingsport High." 

"Really?" she asked. "My two oldest, before they were accepted to Harvard, went to Sprewell Prep. My youngest son, however, protested for months to let him go to public school. We finally agree, God knows why. He's a sophomore at Kingsport. He will be coming later tonight, but he had a schedule conflict. He is currently at a costume ball thrown by the school theatre company."

Val and Tyler snickered into their hands. Whoever this kid was, he wasn't part of Tyler's crowd, that was for sure. Freshman year, Hank had been dating the junior playing Tzitel in Fiddler on the Roof, and was suckered into going to the Theatre Club's Ball. He had come back practically traumatized, saying it was one of the weirdest things he had ever been to. 

Finally, dinner started, and it was a real affair, with appetizers, salads, soups, and all kinds of breads, all brought out by an army of servants. By ten, with all of the food and conversation, it was so stretched out that the main course had only just begun.

Val played with the napkin folded neatly in her lap. "Do you have to do this often?" she whispered.

"Going to rich people one upman-ship parties? Yeah. Isn't it horrible?"

"Atrocious."

Suddenly, the conversation was interrupted by the purr of a motorcycle's motor. "That's my son coming home," said Gwen.

"You let him ride a motorcycle?" asked one of the other random rich people seated around the table.

"It's an antique, you know," said Nicholas, Gwen's husband.

"It's what he wanted for his sixteenth birthday," added Gwen.

"For my daughters sixteenth, we bought a Jaguar," mumbled another braggart rich person.

The door swung open, and the sound of footsteps could he heard. Suddenly, a piercing shriek filled the air. "JAMES ROCKEFELLER WAITE, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?" screeched Gwen.

Val's head popped up, only to see, to her surprise, Jamie and Caitie standing before her. Caitie was wearing what looked to be a dominatrix outfit (complete with a whip and a set of handcuffs) made completely out of--black electrical tape?! 

Then Val caught wind of Jamie, and nearly burst out laughing. He was wearing the blonde wig of Homecoming fame, full makeup, a mini-skirt fashioned out of opaque pink Saran Wrap, black high heels, and a transparent pink Saran Wrap tank top. On his chest was written "SUCK IT" in bold black marker, and every place that Val thought possible to pierce, and some she didn't think was possible, had a stud stuck through it. 

"Hi Mom," he said calmly, and clicked his tongue ring against his teeth.

"Hi Mrs. W.," offered Caitie.

"We're going up to my room now. C-ya, Mom, Daddy-O." With that, Jamie and Caitie whisked themselves out of the room.

Val and Tyler exchanged bewildered, raised eyebrow looks, both over the shock of seeing Jamie and Caitie's choice of outfit, and the realization that Jamie was LOADED, more so than the rest of the squad put together and multiplied by three. After a few minutes, Tyler said to the still shocked-silence of the dinner party, "May we be excused?"

"Yes," mumbled William.

Val and Tyler rose from the table, and walked up the stairs, following the sound of heavy metal music to Jamie's room. The door was painted black, and splatter painted a bright red. In a deeper red, was written in rather ominous-looking letters "ABANDON HOPE, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE."

"I think this is Jamie's door," said Val, and Tyler nodded in agreement. He knocked.

"Hold on!" called a voice from within. "We're not decent!"

A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a more dressed pair--Jamie standing at the door in a white wife beater and black jeans (sans piercings) and Caitie, dressed in all black street clothes, lounging across Jamie's bed, blending into the midnight-black covers.

"Nice place," Tyler said, attempting to get conversation going.

"Yeah, too bad it comes with my family," Jamie commented. "If my folks make you puke, with their exhaustingly fake sophisticated act, it's even worse with my brothers. Nick, all, 'Don't worry, dear Father, I'm going to grow up to learn the ways of resort chain management and inherit the business, to I can grow up to be a snobby pompous asshole like you,' and Rick the Dick with his, 'I'm going to be a politician, so when I become a Senator, Don't Wait Resorts will have a family member in Congress, and you won't have to buy out the President anymore,'" Jamie mocked. "It's so fucking Leave it To Beaver gone Kennedy family that sometimes I want to throw up."

The room was silent after the outburst, Jamie still bristling with his ranting. Val spoke up.

"Well, this certainly isn't the type of house I thought you lived in," she commented, trying to break the awkward silence.

Jamie turned on her, livid. "What, you thought I lived in a trailer? How'd you think I got my motorcycle, then, by stealing it? Some friend!" He turned to Caitie. Val tried to protest, but Jamie cut her off. "Let's go Caitie," he said, pulling on a real shirt. "I don't need to take this kind of abuse in my own house." They swept out of the room, leaving Tyler and Val among the black walls splattered with red, heavy metal music pounding around them, shocked and tacit.

A/N: Want to read the ending? Maureen finished it, with her "So This is Christmas"


End file.
